Catch me if you can
by Ilivetowrite14
Summary: An old nemesis comes back to haunt Gibbs. When the killer targets a member of the team, Gibbs is determined to catch him before it is too late. But will Gibbs succeed?
1. Chapter 1

Catch me if you can

FBI Senior Special Agent Tobias Fornell parked his Sebring behind the crime scene unit, got out and surveyed the scene. Fifteen agents were scattered across the isolated section of Ft. Dupont Park. Three other agents were near a large oak tree, standing near a fourth man who was kneeling at the base of the tree. On the ground in front of him was a body.

Fornell zipped his FBI-issue blue windbreaker and walked toward the four men. He hoped this wasn't a routine case; someone's head would roll if it was. Enjoying a rare day off, Fornell had planned to watch a few college football games, until he had received a call from Agent Simmons.

"Simmons, what's so important you had to call me?" Fornell snarled when he reached the agent. "You can't handle a simple crime scene?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I wouldn't have bothered you if I didn't think it was important." He nervously ground a hole in the dirt with his heel.

"Okay, okay. What have you got?"

Simmons checked his notes. 'White female, 25-30, jogger found her this morning. Doc says she's been dead at least eight hours, so we're talking around eleven last night. No ID except for her dog tags, no tire tracks, scene is clean. She's a naval officer, sir. And then there's this." He handed Fornell an evidence bag.

An irritated look crossed Fornell's face, then he looked down at the kneeling M.E. "COD yet, Doc?

Nelson Rollins, the FBI's medical examiner, looked up. "Neck snapped, but she was tortured and beaten prior to that. I'll know more when she's on my table." His gloved hand lightly traced, without touching, the bruises on the woman's face.

"So why am I here? This will be NCIS' case."

"Uh, read the note again, sir." Simmons edged away from him. Fornell read it again, carefully this time, and he frowned.

"Mother of God. Has anyone contacted him?"

"Um, no sir. I thought it better if you called him."

Fornell shot an amused glance at Simmons as he opened his phone, paged through the directory, and hit dial. Putting the phone to his ear, he said "Afraid of him, Simmons?"

"No sir!"

"You should be. Jethro Gibbs is a royal pain in the butt. He'll take this case over once he sees this note and her dog tags. God help us all."

NCIS Special Agent Jethro Gibbs sat at his desk in the bullpen, redlining a junior agent's report, when his phone rang. Recognizing the number, he resisted the urge to throw the phone in a desk drawer, and picked up. "You have nothing better to do than bother me on a Saturday?" he snapped.

"Lots," Fornell replied, "and none of my plans involved a conversation with you."

"What do you want, Tobias?"

Fornell hesitated, then drew a deep breath and said "I'm at a crime scene in Ft. Dupont Park. Young woman was brutally murdered last night."

"So?"

"She's a naval officer, and one of my agents found a note on her body addressed to you."

"You're kidding. Who's it from?"

Fornell hesitated again; he so did not want to go there. "Curtis Gentry." The response was a dial tone.

"McGee! Get everything we have on Curtis Gentry. Check with Department of Corrections, get his release date. Tony, Kate, now!" Gibbs grabbed his phone and keys, walking to the elevator without looking back.

"Where to, Boss?" Tony asked, juggling his gear as he caught up with Gibbs.

"Someplace I'd rather not go," Gibbs muttered. "McGee, call Ducky, tell him to meet us at Ft. Dupont Park."

The team arrived within an hour. Fornell got out of his car and approached. "You didn't have to bring the whole crew, Jethro," he said, as Gibbs got out of the car.

"I'll need them," Gibbs replied, and then surprised Fornell by giving him a cup of coffee.

"You really think I'm going to turn this case over to you?" He took the coffee, too grateful for the rich warmth of the brew to question Gibbs' motives.

"Yes," Gibbs said, quietly, looking around the scene before focusing on Fornell. "It involves a naval officer, first of all, and secondly, you have no idea who you're dealing with. I do." He ducked under the yellow crime scene tape and walked toward the body.

Fornell watched him walk away, then turned and looked at Tony and Kate. "That is one arrogant, irritating SOB."

"Funny," Tony said, slinging his bag on his shoulder, "he says the same thing about you."

They followed Gibbs to the body. The young woman was covered with bruises; her head faced left, tendrils of her raven hair fluttered in the breeze. "Doc Rollins puts TOD at eleven last night," Fornell said when he'd caught up with Gibbs. "A jogger found her this morning. No tracks leading to or from the body. Someone was very, very careful."

"Or someone got sloppy and walked around the crime scene." Gibbs held up a hand to cut Fornell off. "I don't mean you or your people. Where's the note?"

Agent Simmons passed the evidence bag to Gibbs. "It was in an envelope. We bagged them separately."

Gibbs nodded and looked at the sheet of paper protected by a clear plastic bag. The plain white paper had a short poem scribbled on it:

A blast from the past,

Free at last.

I haunt your dreams,

You still hear their screams.

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN.

A thousand yards away, a man lowered his high powered binoculars and smiled. The game had begun.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Who will investigate the case

Chapter 2 – Who will investigate the case?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, except for Agent Simmons, attorney Lindsay Frame, Lt. Rebecca Alexander, FBI M.E. Nelson Rollins, and bad guy Curtis Gentry. Reviews with constructive criticism welcome. Special thanks to The Profane Angel for editing my work and providing valuable information regarding naval and federal investigations.

--

"I see he still likes his little poems," Fornell remarked, as Gibbs returned the evidence bag. "You'd think, with all that free time and Leavenworth's vast library, prison would improve his writing skills."

"Twenty years with the FBI hasn't improved your writing skills, Fornell," Gibbs said.

As they watched Rollins and his assistant loaded the body on a gurney, Gibbs' cell phone rang. "Yeah."

"I have that information you wanted, boss," McGee said. "Her name is Lt. Sheila Byers, age 24. She's one of us, boss, I mean, she works for JAG, which I guess would make her one of us…"

"You're babbling, McGee."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll get in touch with someone at JAG to find out what she did there."

"You do that." Gibbs snapped his phone shut. "She's from JAG, Tobias, although I'm sure you already knew that."

"How did you find that out?"

"Car in the parking lot with a Navy sticker on it. I had McGee run the sticker numbers."

"Well, I appreciate you coming down here, but we have to get to work. I'll keep you in the loop, Jethro," Fornell said, "unofficially, of course."

"You'll keep me in the loop?" Gibbs arched an eyebrow. "This is an NCIS case."

"Gibbs, you're not taking over this case."

Gibbs moved closer to Fornell. "I'm not getting into a pissing match with you. She's a naval officer, which makes this our case."

"She was found in a national park, which makes this a federal case."

"Considering how you screwed up the last time you tried to catch Gentry..."

"I did not screw up, Gibbs!" Fornell said, struggling not to yell.

"Really?" Gibbs said, quietly, staring Fornell down. "Why don't we ask Rebecca Alexander's family? I'm pretty sure they'd disagree with you."

Their argument was interrupted as Fornell's cell phone rang. "You might want to answer that," Gibbs said, smugly, turning toward the FBI's ME to claim the body.

EIGHT YEARS EARLIER

"Take your time, Lt. Alexander," Fornell told the nervous young woman. He saw a small smile as she nervously twisted a strand of auburn hair around her finger.

"Quit coaching the witness. Agent Fornell." Fornell turned around and glared at attorney Lindsay Frame.

"Can he see me? Does he know I'm here?" Rebecca Alexander couldn't hide a bad case of nerves.

"No, he can't see you," Fornell reassured her. "He has no idea who's on this side of the glass."

She looked at the eight men standing on the other side of one way glass. "I'm...just not sure. They all look alike."

"Just do your best," he said, touching her shoulder.

Drawing a deep breath, then another, she said, "Number seven. He looks like the guy who grabbed me."

The attorney grunted as he led Rebecca to the door. "You did fine, Ms. Alexander. Agent Miller will take you home. I'll call you soon." He watched walk down the hallway before turning to Lindsay. "There's other evidence against your client, Ms. Frame."

"But it's not enough to hold him, Agent Fornell. Out of twenty witnesses, two were able to put him in the club at the same time as Lt. Alexander. The hair on her sleeve can be explained by incidental contact in a crowded room. Without more substantial evidence, you have to cut him loose."

Twenty-four hours later, Lt. Rebecca Alexander was dead.

PRESENT TIME

"You know," Tony said, watching Fornell and Gibbs argue, "They say your argue most with the one you love."

"So?" Kate replied, pulling her raven hair into a ponytail before putting on her NCIS hat.

"So, you must have strong feelings for me, because you're always fighting with me. OW!" Tony rubbed the back of his head, turning to see Gibbs behind him.

"We argue all the time, DiNozzo, but I guarantee it doesn't mean I love you," Gibbs said.

"Sorry, boss."

"Gibbs, Fornell's turning three different shades of red. What did you say to him?" Kate said.

"Nothing. He's being told his people are off the case, that it's a NCIS case now."

Kate nodded. "That'll do it. Uh oh. Here he comes.'

Fornell stormed up to Gibbs. "How in hell did you get hold of my boss on a Saturday?"

Gibbs held up his cell phone. "Speed dial. Just for emergencies. Thanks for taking care of the preliminary work, Tobias. We'll take it from here. And no worries, I'll keep you in the loop. Unofficially, of course."

Fornell glared at Gibbs, thin-lipped. "You do that Gibbs. Try not to screw up." He walked away, to Agent Simmons and the rest of his team, gesticulating as he gave them the news.

The man continued to watch the scene in the park. The exchange between agents told him Gibbs had the case, just the way he wanted it. Checking his watch, he noted the time on a small notepad. Thirty-six hours before the next step in the plan, he thought, focusing his binoculars on the group in the park.


	3. Chapter 3

Dressed in green surgical scrubs, Dr. Douglas "Ducky" Mallard stared at the young face on his autopsy table. "Oh, my dear, you are far too young to go through such horrors." His skilled hands explored her neck before he looked up at the x-rays.

"Whatcha got, Ducky?" Gibbs said, walking in with a cup of coffee.

"Not much, Jethro. Dr. Rollin's diagnosis of a broken neck is confirmed. Our killer placed his hands here," pointing to the left side of her face, "and here," pointing to the back of her head, "snapping her neck. Instantaneous death." He sighed. There's bruising all over her body, especially her forearms. Defensive wounds, probably during the initial attack."

"Rape kit?"

"I haven't done one yet, but there's no visible signs to suggest that a sexual assault took place. He beat this poor thing nearly to death before breaking her neck."

"How long do you think the beating lasted?"

"Hard to say. When was she abducted? Was she reported missing by anyone?"

"Working on it."

Ducky looked at Gibbs for a minute. "Are you looking for something in particular, Jethro?" Gibbs pulled the evidence bag out of his pocket and handed it to Ducky. As he read the paper, he nodded. "I see. You think this is Curtis Gentry. But isn't he locked up doing life without parole?"

"He's supposed to be, Ducky," Gibbs replied, taking the poem and replacing it in his pocket. He threw his cup away as he walked toward the door. "If he's there, we've got a copycat. If he isn't there, somebody better tell me why."

­

Down in the bullpen, Tony and Kate got off the elevator, the latter pushing a cart loaded with boxes. Stopping in front of their desks, they dropped their bags and shed their coats. "How's it going, Probbie?" Tony said, sitting down.

"Look up at the screen." McGee tapped the keyboard, and a picture of a young woman in a naval uniform popped up on the big monitor by his desk. "Lt. Sheila Byers, age 24. Lives in an apartment near the Judge Advocate headquarters, where she works as a paralegal. Parents are still living in Dallas; two siblings, a brother Marc, who lives in California, and a sister, Elizabeth, who attends the University of …what's the matter, Tony?"

Tony stared intently at the screen. "Is it just me, or does anyone else think she looks just like Kate?"

"She does not look like me, Tony." Kate stared at the screen again. "We just happen to have the same hair color, which proves you have a thing for brunettes, DiNozzo."

"Don't forget blondes and redheads, Kate," Tony grinned. "I never discriminate."

McGee interrupted them. "No, Tony's right, Kate. It's not just the hair."

"What does DiNozzo THINK he is right about?" Gibbs said, coming in.

"Tony thinks that Sheila Byers looks like me, Gibbs. I said it just proves he has a thing for brunettes."

Looking at the photo, then Kate, Gibbs nodded. He's right, Kate. She does look like you." He looked at the cart. "Are those the boxes I asked for?"

"Yes, boss," Tony replied. "All the files and evidence from the Alexander case, as well as everything I could find on Curtis Gentry."

"McGee, what did you find on Gentry?"

Swallowing hard, McGee nervously hit a few more keys, and Sheila's picture was replaced with one of a rugged man, who was looking at them with dull grey eyes that stood out because of his dark hair. "Curtis Gentry, convicted over seven years ago for the murder of Lt. Rebecca Alexander. Former marine, served during Desert Storm. Divorced, no children, no known living relatives. Sentenced to Leavenworth in 2001." He abruptly stopped.

"Anything else, McGee?"

"Well, according to prison records, Curtis Gentry was found unresponsive in his cell, transported to the clinic, but died a short time later. Tests found cyanide on his dessert, a brownie."

"When?"

"Two years ago."

Gibbs stared at Gentry's picture. "If Gentry is dead, then who killed Sheila Byers and left that poem on her body?"


End file.
